


A New Dawn

by TheCookieOfDoom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Dreams and Nightmares, Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 10:38:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13386075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCookieOfDoom/pseuds/TheCookieOfDoom
Summary: "Where would we go?""Anywhere," Robb replied. He cupped Jon's cheek softly, thumb brushing under his eye. "Anywhere we could be together."





	A New Dawn

It was the dead of night, as it often when was these conversations took place, when Robb suggested, "We could run away," with a smile in his voice, mind still honeyed and slow from the bliss of his orgasm. Jon, usually so quiet and sullen—save for these stolen moments where the world consisted of only the two of them—traced nonsensical patterns over Robb's chest with his fingertip, and decided to indulge his lover.

"Where would we go?" Jon, unlike Robb, had never traveled much beyond Winterfell, save for the few ventures to the Wall to visit his uncle. He knew little of the world and what it had to offer. Nothing but stories that he had long outgrown.

Robb hummed, thinking, his hand tangling in the mess of Jon's damp curls. "I want to take you to Highgarden. You would like it, I think. It's like spring all the time. And the Tyrell's are gracious about people like us."

"People like us?" Jon echoed. He couldn't imagine any house being accepting of their sinful relationship. Even the primal Old Gods of their own house would condemn them. As if sensing his troubled thoughts, Robb soothed his hand down Jon's naked back, tracing the line of his spine with his palm.

"People like you, I should say," Robb said, eyes glinting with mischief. His hand moved lower, fingertips teasing at the sheets where they gathered just barely over the curve of Jon's ass, before slipping past that barrier, his lips curling into a smirk. "Sword swallowers. Pillow biters."

Jon gaped up at Robb, before narrowing his eyes in a weak glare. "I recall making you bite your share of pillows."

"Yes, but of the two of us, _your_ teeth have left more of an impression on the bedding." Robb laughed at the indignant look Jon gave him, even more when Jon swatted at his chest to silence him.

"See if I'll go to Highgarden with you now," Jon said, glaring up at Robb through his lashes. The look was likely more darling than he had intended it to be, and Robb couldn't help but kiss that sweet pout away.

Jon made like he would protest, but it was only a token effort, and soon he was melting into the kiss with a pleased little sigh. When he pulled away, Robb was looking down at him with such a tender expression that it made his heart ache. "Where else could we go?" he asked softly.

"Anywhere," Robb replied, just as quiet. He cupped Jon's cheek softly, thumb brushing under his eye. "Anywhere we could be together."

"Somewhere away from here. Away from Westeros." Where no one would find them, and no one would know them.

Jon felt chills rise over his skin, and finally had to pull away from the warmth of Robb's body just long enough to retrieve his blankets and furs from where they had been unceremoniously kicked to the ground. Robb was smiling when he laid back down. Draping himself over Robb's chest along with the blankets, he nuzzled into him. "Maybe somewhere warm for a change," he added, voice muffled where his face was tucked into Robb's shoulder.

"I've always wanted to see Dorne," Robb suggested, wrapping one arm around Jon to hold him close, burying his hand back in his soft hair to gently brush out the snarls and tangles with his fingers. "No one would look for us there."

"I would like to see it one day," Jon said, smiling against Robb's skin.

"That settles it, then. I will take you, and we will never have to come home again."

"When will we go?"

"Tonight. There's nothing stopping us, we could leave now."

Jon huffed a soft laugh. "We can't leave tonight, we have nothing packed. No supplies ready."

"Tomorrow night, then. After everyone is asleep, we'll meet in the godswood and leave this place for good."

"Really?" Jon asked, not quite believing Robb could be serious. He would be giving up his entire life, everything he knew. Everything others would—and have—killed to have. And Robb was seemingly willing to give it all up for him, a bastard boy with nothing to offer.

"Really. Tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night," Jon agreed, eyes stinging with emotion as he looked up at Robb. He welcomed one last kiss before sleep, lulled by the steady, sure beat of Robb's heart.

***

The next morning Robb and Jon were harshly woken by guards bursting into the room, kicking the door open unceremoniously. The pair barely had time to register what was happening before Jon was being hauled from the bed, still naked, while two of the guards restrained Robb.

"Jon Snow, by order of Lord Stark you are under arrest."

"On what rounds?" Jon demanded, struggling with no care for his dignity, despite the dread filling his stomach; he already knew what charges he would be accused of. It was hardly as though there was a lot to choose from.

"The crime of incest," the guard to his right said, twisting his arm almost to breaking. The disgust was evident in his voice. Robb, too stunned to put up much of a fight, stared wide-eyed at Jon, unable to believe that after all this time, right when they were finally free, they had been caught. "A crime that is punishable by death, should you be found guilty." As if there was any doubt he would be. They had been caught in a lover's embrace, naked in bed together. All the evidence needed to judge them guilty.

Robb watched in horror as Jon was dragged out of the room, no one willing to afford him the dignity of allowing him to dress first.

 

"What are you doing here, Greyjoy?" Jon asked, equal parts suspicion and accusation in his voice as he watched Theon approach. His voice was shaking as well, teeth chattering from the cold. One of the guards had tossed him an old horse blanket but it hardly helped, and sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest preserved little heat.

"Figured you'd rather not freeze your balls off." Theo tossed a bundle through the bars of the cell, and Jon was relieved to see his clothes land in front of him. The ones he'd left in Robb's room, meaning Theon must have gone to speak with him. Jon stood to dress in record time.

"Where is Robb? Is he okay?"

"Confined to quarters at the moment, and I'd imagine for the foreseeable future. The dungeons are no place for the heir to Winterfell, I'd imagine," Theon said, looking around with obvious disdain for the place. He hesitated in speaking just long enough to give Jon pause, the younger man pausing in lacing up to shirt to look at Theon warily, prompting him to continue. "Lord and Lady Stark are going to make you take the fall for this. Given you _status_ you make a convenient scapegoat to blame this all on. It was all your idea, you made Robb do it, all of that drivel. And if I were in your position… I would let them."

"Why in the seven hells would I do that?" Jon asked, looking at Theon with wide eyes.

"Can't you see? That's the only way Robb will get out of this mostly unscathed and honor bruised but intact. An incestuous bastard can be dealt with and moved past, but an incestuous lord? The future Lord of _Winterfell_ no less? The people would have his head." Theon pinned Jon with a sneer. "Don't tell me you're not willing to martyr yourself now."

Jon glared up at Theon sullenly, finishing tying up the laces of his leather jerkin but not replying, because of course he would sacrifice his own honor—little though that he had—for Robb's. "How did they find out about us?"

"Do I look like a bloody psychic to you? I have no idea. For all I know, it was an empty accusation from Lady Stark, and you happened to be caught quite literally with your pants down."

Jon inhaled sharply at the accusation, looking around the make sure there was no one around to hear. "She wouldn't," he said lowly, because Winterfell was no King's Landing, but the walls did still have ears.

"Are you so sure? She's always hated you, and I saw her talking to Lord Stark shortly before he sent the guards for you."

"She wouldn't do this to Robb," Jon insisted. He knew it would be foolish to assume she wouldn't put _him_ through this, but he couldn't see her being so cruel to her eldest son. Lady Catelyn adored her children, and would do anything for them; it was him she could do without.

"I don't think you know her as well as you think you do."

"She would never do something to affect Robb's honor or the honor of this house. If Lady Stark were truly behind this, it would be dealt with so that _no one would know._ She would sooner have me poisoned or assassinated in my sleep."

"Believe what you wish, not that it matters. Make you peace with your gods, Snow. Tomorrow you go to meet them."

Jon watched Theon turn and leave, feeling the gravity of the situation finally dawn on him with Theon's soberingly harsh words. He fell back against the wall, sliding down until met the floor. His nightmares, everything he had warned Robb against when starting down this path, were finally coming true.

 

Once more Jon was roused from a fitful sleep and restrained by two guards, and he knew the dawn of his last day must have finally come. He was taken far from Winterfell, a small procession of men waiting for him. Lord Stark, Ser Rodrick, Jory, Robb, Theon, and a handful of guards to keep the two of them in line, should Jon try to run. He could only be thankful that Ned hadn't ordered Bran along to this execution, as he had done with the last. It was painful enough to be executed before one brother.

Watching Robb fight against Theon's hold made Jon's heart ache as he was forced to his knees before the executioner's block. The old wood was permanently stained from the blood that had seeped into it over the decades. Perhaps even centuries of heads had rolled before him here. Beside Jon stood his father, a short distance away Robb and Theon. So close, really, it wouldn't take much for Robb to get to him. But that would mean terrible consequences, and Jon was silently grateful to Theon and Jory restraining his brother, Theon with his face in a stony mask and Jory looking apologetic, like he would stop this if he could. Even now Robb struggled, whereas Jon had accepted his fate.

"Jon Snow. I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, sentence you to die."

"Father—" Jon began, tearing his eyes away from Robb to look up at the man pleadingly, but Ned wouldn't hear what he had to say.

"You are no son of mine," he said, voice colder than all the snow in the North. He hefted his sword, and gestured for Jon to be forced forward over the block. "If you have any last words, speak them now."

Jon looked back to Robb, wanting him to be the last thing he ever saw, his eyes stinging with unshed tears, Robb's flowing freely. He tried to smile reassuringly, but given Robb's choked sob, it must have fallen short.

"I love you," he said, and a second later the sword fell.

***

Jon jolted away, the image of his head rolling bloody and lifeless still vivid and fresh in his mind. He lifted a hand to rub at his neck as if to reassure himself it was still attached to his head, feeling his smooth skin and sighing. He was still whole. Moments later, Robb was entering the cabin, smile broad but soon replaced with a look of concern when he saw Jon's expression.

"What's wrong?" he asked, coming to sit beside Jon on the bed. He took his hand where it was still placed over his throat, lacing their fingers together.

"A nightmare," Jon said. He listed towards Robb, welcoming his one-armed embrace. "Just a nightmare." Like all the other's that had plagued him almost nightly since they'd departed from Winterfell weeks ago.

Robb pressed his lips to Jon's temple, like he could kiss away the demons, then stood. He tugged softly at their still joined hands, urging him to stand. "Come on, I know just what you need to put your mind at ease."

Jon followed Robb out of the cabin clad in nothing but a loose undershirt and his pants, far less than he was used to wearing—but after two weeks he'd no longer been able to stand the many layers he'd needed in Winterfell—his bare feet barely making a sound on the ships deck. Robb moved to stand behind him as they got to the edge, arms loosely wrapped around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder.

"Welcome to Dorne," Robb said, smiling against his jaw, and Jon knew the nightmares would trouble him no longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back~


End file.
